


I'm Sorry

by GothamsGirl



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: F/F, Miscarriage, Past Relationship(s), Pregnancy, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 21:43:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6256984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothamsGirl/pseuds/GothamsGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Harley?” Ivy calls out while entering their shared apartment, putting down her leather purse (a belated birthday present from the cat) on the little kitchen table and looking around the room, “Daffodil I’m home.”</p><p>No answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Sorry

“Harley?” Ivy calls out while entering their shared apartment, putting down her leather purse (a belated birthday present from the cat) on the little kitchen table and looking around the room, “Daffodil I’m home.”

No answer. 

Weird. 

“Harls I told you I'm not playing hide and seek,” the redhead laughs, “I’m glad you’re feeling better though,” Ivy calls out, washing dirt from the gardens off her hands, Harley hates when it gets in her hair. “You were starting to worry me.”

Usually, hide and seek with the clown would go like this. Ivy ignoring the game until a certain blonde came tumbling out of whatever spot she stuffed herself in with a cute little pout and a quick, “Aw Pam, why ya gotta be such a party pooper?”

Ivy starts worrying when she’s half way through explaining her new experiments and there’s still no sign of her lovable deranged girlfriend. 

“Harley!” She yells, annoyed and cranky now, “Did you fall asleep while hiding again?! Women in your condition shouldn’t be-“

Oh no.

Pamela’s whole body is on edge when she hears it. From the little bedroom they share, down the hall, is most definitely the sound of Harley sobbing.  
Ivy runs toward it, shedding her lap coat and kicking off high heels on the way, she bursts into the room, eyes wide and fearful as she immediately locks them with the familiar blue ones she sees everyday.

It’s a pitiful sight really, a little broken doll on their bed. She’s curled up on the comforter, dressed in Grey sweats and a red tank top that rides up on her barely noticeable tummy bump. 

“What happened?” Ivy asks, kneeling next to the bed and holding her girl’s hand.

Harley squeezes it tightly and through choked hiccups dejectedly tells her, “I think I lost it, Red.”

Oh. 

Pam notices it then, the blood on the younger woman’s thighs, soaking through the sweats onto the comforter.

The first thing that pops into her head is explanation, “It wasn’t your fault daffodil, I just need to make the next with less plant DNA, maybe with more human it will survive longer and-“

“I'm sorry.” Harley chokes, hugging her midsection tighter in pain, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

“No,” Pam feels her own eyes growing wet, “This is my fault, I should of tested the embryos first.”

It seemed so simple when they decided. Harley wanted a baby, Ivy wanted Harley to be happy. Thus three months in a stuffy lab creating a human-plant hybrid using her own DNA was started. Harley had been so happy it’d actually be a child with both of them creating it she cried and hugged Ivy for 2 hours.

Artificial insemination was easy with the help of a terrified kidnapped doctor and a few tools that Batman was not to happy to hear were stolen and countless complains from Harley about how they should of warmed the tools first, damn it.

The first month was wonderful, Harley glowed with life. Plants leaned toward the clown princess when she walked by, flowers bloomed in her very presence. Ivy even found herself waiting on her girlfriend hand and foot. 

Then month two brought sickness. Harley quite literally looking a little green, ill and tired that had Ivy running around like a crazy person trying to help her.

Harley looks heartbroken, hugging herself tightly and singing lullabies under her breath.

“I'm sorry.” Pam tries, doing her best to comfort her girl. 

Across town a certain scarred mouth opens in joyful laughter, hand clutching a needle as he comments, “Oh Harls, you really need to lock your windows

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Literally wrote this in less than an hour on my phone during school so sorry for any mistakes. ❤


End file.
